He's there the night that Robin comes into MacLaren's just before last call, and tells them all about Don. He's haunting the bar, vaguely hitting on a brunette with a flat chest, when her words drift across from the booth, slamming into him, cutting through him like shards from an exploding landmine.
"Yeah, okay Marshall. You were right. Don's kind of awesome."
Ripping through his flesh, he can feel it, the sharpness of a thousand tiny cuts.
"He's tall and ruggedly handsome. Looks like he could throw down, ya know?"
Slamming through his rib-cage, cutting through each bone like butter.
"And he's funny. Smart. Well-travelled."
Like a clamp around his heart. Like the air, sucked out of his lungs. Like a kick in the gut.
"And he's just a little bit arrogant, you know? Just enough."
Barney wishes he didn't know her. He wishes he could just watch her, sitting there, playing with her hair and smiling, and not remember.
He wishes he didn't have to remember how happy she'd made him feel when she said he was her boyfriend.
He wishes he didn't remember the days and nights in bed, the days and nights alone with her, drinking her in.
He wishes that everything he owned didn't still smell of her.
He wishes he hadn't said that she cancelled him out.
But he turns back to the bar and eases back into his mask of awesome retreat. The new guy, Don, he could make her happy.
She could be happy. He wouldn't know.